The punishment of Sisyphus seems bizarre. This king, in Greek mythology, was condemned for all eternity to the struggle of pushing a massive boulder up a steep hill only to have it roll back down again. What was his crime against the gods?

Sisyphus outsmarted and chained up Thanatos what happened (Death) according to some versions. Whereas in other accounts, they emphasize that he leveraged information to secure the Peirene Spring for the city of Corinth. In both cases it was him cheating death. Fresh water was key for a city up on a hill—with waterborne disease a big problem with stagnant waters.  And keeping Death bound also allowed mortals to live without fear of dying for a period of time.

This myth is the perfect metaphor for human progress. We have been so very successful for a century—or two—that many are ignorant of how life was before the widespread use of antibiotics and vaccines. We still have survivors of polio alive today—people with lifelong disabilities due to their illness—yet a fairly large population remains blissfully unaware of the risk of being unprotected.

A recent reminder of this is the measles outbreak that is currently sweeping through Amish and Mennonite communities. Hundreds of cases are reported (many more likely unreported), almost entirely among the unvaccinated. It’s not too surprising—hearing of their accounts of severe illness—that a local clinic that caters to Old Order Anabaptists has seen a significant spike in demand for MMR vaccines.

True, only a handful of deaths can currently be directly attributed to this disease. And sure, we can argue that a ruptured spleen during birth is more the fault of an unlicensed midwife than it is the organ being inflamed and vulnerable due to the viral infection. It’s technically not the fall that kills; it is the sudden stop at the end when you hit the ground. But let’s not be cute about it: measles comes with health consequences which will often extend beyond the initial sickness.

However, this is hubris that cuts both ways. It is not just the “did my own research” type who dooms humanity to a repeat cycle. It can also be the overconfidence of formally educated and designated authorities. Dr. Anthony Fauci’s declarations on MSNBC—“Attacks on me… are attacks on science”—and saying “I represent science” on CBS’s Face the Nation later—border on delusional. Wisdom isn’t derived from the mere accumulation of knowledge—its humility and understanding that our knowledge (dogma) can be a blind spot—even become a hindrance to growth in perspective. Nobody is immune.

A younger Amish co-worker (one of those vaccinated against measles) confided in me that his own doubts arose because of the COVID response. Prior to the pandemic he had faith in the medical profession, and I’ll confess to a similar experience. There’s a backlash that was earned.

The reality is this: in the 1950s we thought we would beat disease. We raised a whole generation who saw progress as linear, humanity finally overcoming disease through hygiene and antibiotics. But another generation has learned that there are consequences to advancements. Nature snaps back; we now have autoimmune disorders and allergies like never before. Antibiotic resistance may eventually erase much of the advantage we have enjoyed. Maybe this modernist notion of a climb into some utopian end is mythological, and the nature of reality is cyclical? Science is not our salvation.

And it’s layers of complexity. Our modern institutions, formed by extraordinary men, had gained our trust through successes. A silent testimony of child graves from only a century ago is the traction Dr. Fauci found for his career. But like our discovering the flaws in our once-infallible parents, and as brilliant innovators are replaced with those who are mere caretakers of an established system, we learn there was no truly sacred substance there. And our doubts cause us to lose grip on the boulder civilization has labored to move. Either by forgetting those lessons that got us to our heights or by our flight too close to the sun (the myth of Icarus), we come crashing down to Earth again.

I suppose both our ignorance and our arrogance could be our downfall. As I see a race towards a potential AI apocalypse, with ‘the science’ unable to contain itself, or observe the loss of sense of those who didn’t experience the plagues of the past firsthand to appreciate the benefit of an imperfect solution, I can’t decide what will lead us to the punishment for our having held back disease and death. I only suspect that the action will produce an equal and opposite reaction. Or maybe we can hand Sisyphus a stick to prop that rock and live indefinitely in a fragile balance?

A myth is a warning about something true and goes beyond mere facts and medical journals. There is a level of human reality that isn’t better explained in their academic pages or technical terms. We’re doomed to repeat history because the failure that leads to our next fall comes in a slightly different form each time. But it seems inevitable: civilization has a life cycle. It appears to be invincible during the rise; conquers heights never previously seen before (in the memory of those ascending) before it loses steam and all that was an asset turns to liabilities. We think we have defeated disease, and yet we have only bought ourselves a reprieve.